


Maintaining A Balance

by TheLittlestBoho



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:31:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittlestBoho/pseuds/TheLittlestBoho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a balance to things, and people who keep that balance in place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maintaining A Balance

The thing that really pisses Stiles off about some of the Supernatural creatures they’ve met is how hard they are to look at. And not just in the way all of his werewolf buddies are unbearably good looking. The fae creature he’s looking at is actually hard to look at. She, he, it, whatever it is, is actually physically difficult to look at. It’s like it’s a half dozen images superimposed on one another and Stiles’ eyes can’t quite focus on any one of them.

It’s annoying as hell. Not quite as annoying as the fact that the fae creature showed up when he was having a midnight swing-session in the park and zapped him to the middle of nowhere. But it’s a pretty close second.

“Let me get this straight. You’re a fairy, and you’re in charge of making sure the cosmology of the universe is a-okay, or something?” he asks, cause he’s pretty sure that’s what all the gobblydegook it just spouted meant. Seriously, were werewolves the only mystical creatures that didn’t speak in riddles? Even Deaton had that stupid tendency to say one thing while actually saying something completely different.

The thing in front of him nods its head, wide white eyes shimmering slightly before sliding into gold ones that remind him of a wildcat. “We are the old ones. We maintain the balance. Light and dark, life and death, good and evil. Where one goes the other must follow, and so in turn when one arrives the other must as well.”

“Right, okay. Ignoring how horribly fantasy novelesque that sounded, what does that have to do with me? And how exactly do you ‘maintain the balance’ in regards to all of the grey stuff in between? Cause if my women’s studies course has taught me anything, it’s that nothing is black and white. Seriously, it’s kind of intense.”

It earns him a laugh that sounds simultaneously like the kind of deep bellow he associates with Italian mothers and the soft tittering sound of stereotypical fairies. It’s creepy and oddly enjoyable. Stiles doesn’t like it.

“Oh, young one, there is still so much for you to learn,” it says, reaching out a hand to cup Stiles’ cheek even as it doesn’t quite make contact. The texture of leather and flower petals and earth all rolled into one touch that he’s not even sure he actually feels. “There has been one life lost more than the balance requires. One being too many is trying to leave this world of yours.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, frowning at the thing that kind of looks like a cross between a lemur and an elf right now. “Still not understanding what this has to do with me and your kidnapping of my person.”

It smiles - lips soft pink and deep red and sandy brown – as it watches him and all of the images seem to look fond. “You are the spark, young one. The boy in red, the one who runs with wolves. We are giving you the choice of who will be returned. A gift.”

For a split second Stiles is pretty sure his heart has stopped. Completely come to a stop. Weirdly formal language or not, the fae in front of him is clearly letting him pick one person to bring back from the dead. Him, Stiles, the kid who can’t even remember to take his pills every morning.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he says.

“We do not joke. You embody both sides of all things. Selfish even as you give yourself for others, wise even as you stumble, brave even as your heart races in fear. There are a great many things you are capable of; this is only one of them.”

Stiles wants to argue with them, wants to point out all the ways in which this is a truly horrible idea. He’s not – okay, so maybe he managed to work magic a couple times. And maybe he’s probably the most balanced member of the pack, but have you seen them? Saying he’s more centered than any of his friends isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement.

But then he remembers the tired lines around his dad’s eyes. He’s been looking old lately, really, really old. Even his deputies have talked about forcing him to take a week off, go camping with Stiles like they did when he was young.

His dad never looked this tired when his mom was still around. They were always smiling and laughing, and even when they fought Stiles knew they loved each other. Stiles doesn’t think they ever spent a night apart, never had a night where one of them slept on the couch.

There was a rule in the Stilinski household when his mom was alive – no one ever goes to bed angry. His mom enforced it with an iron fist. There had been a time when he was eight and he had a huge fight with his dad about some stupid thing or another. His mom didn’t let him go to bed until his head was bobbing and he apologized to his dad, curling up on his lap like he was four again. ‘Family is the most important thing,’ she used to say ‘as long as you have family, you’ll be fine.’

“I can bring anyone back?” he asks. It’s a bad idea, a terrible idea, but he wants it so badly.

“Anyone,” they answer, watching him even as he tries not to look at them.

She smelled like cinnamon and pepper and these little yellow flowers that grew in their yard. When he was a kid, Stiles would press his face into her skirt or her shoulder and breathe that smell in. As far as he was concerned she was the best smelling mommy in the world. He would tell her that and she would laugh and cover his face in kisses until he squealed.

Singing was a big part of their household back then too. None of them were particularly good singers, but when they were all home at the end of the day his mom would put on an album and they would all start singing. His dad would scoop him up and twirl him around when he was small, and when he got too big for that his parents would alternate turns spinning him in circles on the floor.

They would sing and dance until they were breathless, curling up on the couch together with all of their cheeks flushed. When they were cooking or cleaning or working on teaching Stiles his letters, there was always music playing.

Stiles knows his dad’s smile. Knows how light he would look if he had his wife back, knows that he’d probably cry when she first came back. It would be hard to come up with an explanation, but it’s probably not the first time these creatures of done something like this. There’s probably protocol, a magical explanation fairy to help work out the kinks.

It would be perfect, having her back. He could tell her about the pack, tell both his parents about them. With his mom there he’d have another set of hands helping him stop his dad from doing anything reckless about the supernatural threats. She would probably bake brownies and come to a pack meeting and give them all a stern talking to, because that was the kind of mom she was. She would set you straight even as she pulled ‘coolest mom of the year’ tricks.

Erica and Lydia could use a female figure like that. So could Allison, now that her mom was gone. Hell, the whole pack was lacking in mother figures, other than Scott. Ms McCall tried to help but there was only so much one mother could do while trying to keep her family afloat. A second pair of maternal eyes could be great. Someone strong, someone used to keeping people in line, someone who could take care of broken kids.

It would be especially good for Derek. He was getting better at the alpha thing, getting better at being a leader they could all go to. But he’d still lost every parent figured he’d ever had, one after the other. Even more than the rest of the pack, Derek needed someone he could rely on who wasn’t looking up to him for guidance. It would be good for him to have someone he could go to for help. Someone that felt like home and safety and love.

Taking a breath Stiles looked up at the creature, trying to focus in on one image over another before giving up. “Have you chosen, young one?”

He nodded, flexing his hands at his sides as he wondered what the repercussions of this would be. Hopefully they would only be good, but even if they weren't he trusted the pack to work together to fix it. Letting his breath out slowly he licked his lip, knowing in his bones that it was the right choice no matter how much it hurt to make.

"Laura. I want you to bring Laura Hale back.”


End file.
